Graduating from high school is weird. If you asked me to walk you through the day, I couldn't, because I don't remember it really. I remember being anxious and nervous and excited, all at once. I remember my best friend at the time reaching over and grabbing me by the arm before it all began. "Dude," she said. "This is it."

It's odd the moments that stand out – the conversations that replay easily on a loop. And then there are some that I remember in the distance but couldn't tell you any details if you paid me.

Sometimes it's the most random things I remember, and I don't know why.

Like yesterday, I was thinking about one of the last open dances of the year that was inextricably "career" themed, but I showed up as a rock star because I was tired of people asking me what I wanted to do with my life.

"Isn't that what college is for?" I vented to my friends.

"This is literally just a silly costume for a dance," they said, annoyed.

I was always waiting for the future to reveal itself. I was so sure there would be signs. When I think about it now, I'm pretty sure if there were signs, I ignored them all. And maybe I'm still ignoring them or fighting them without realizing it. I keep thinking that eventually I'll come to a fork in the road and it'll all make sense, and 2007 me would say, "Ohhh. Of course." And then in 2027, I can look back and remember the late-night messages and the talks and the people who told me to go to bed instead of staying up until 12:51 a.m. writing loquacious blog posts that have no real purpose except to selfishly clear my own head.

But then again, perhaps, it's not that selfish.

I cannot breathe without writing first. I can't write without remembering to breathe. The two actions are linked, like two arms swaying back and forth on a walk down the street. It's why I started blogging weekly, even if I sometimes felt like I didn't have anything to say. It gave me an outlet for times when I felt small, times when I felt voiceless, times when I felt too tired for life.

But right now, I think I need a break. I've gotten all the words out of my brain that I think I can muster, and while I sort out what's in front of me, I need to also sort out what's been around me since 2007: the anxiety, the nerves, the fear. And as much as writing helps sometimes, I also think it's become a crutch I've leaned on too heavily at times because reflection can be easier than embracing what comes next. Nostalgia feels more comfortable than dipping your toes in new waters and exploring a future unknown.

The first year of college is a rough one. That’s not a revelation. I was struggling with a lot of personal stuff along with adjusting to being full-time away from the familiarity of home. I was vulnerable and there was someone who took advantage of that. He was a loser, but quite good at manipulating me and I got easily tricked. When I tried to speak up, nobody believed me.

I felt myself disappearing. I quit my job. I wasn’t eating or sleeping. I was failing my classes (I still have the GPA record to prove it), and I discovered easy ways to get alcohol and other things that either kept me wired or knocked me out.

One night, it was particularly bad. I got back to my room where I had left my laptop on, signed into AIM (because that’s what we did back then to make sure we didn’t miss people’s messages), and Alan was messaging me — probably about an essay or something for HumCore we were supposed to read. By this point, we were friends and we talked about dorm drama, but nowhere was it written we were close enough for me to call him about this. But I did, and told him I was tired and couldn’t do it anymore and I wanted to disappear completely.

In minutes, he showed up outside my dorm. We went for a walk. We listened to music and he made me laugh. We went back to his dorm and watched videos and talked more.

He gave me a place to go that night and opened his door every night I needed a place.

When I think back to that, I always felt guilty for being a burden. Our old exchanges on Facebook are proof of that, the ones that happened during the time we fought because we were jealous the other person seemed to be getting closer to other friends. But he told me since that he needed the friendship as much as I did. The journey our lives went on was proof of it, and everything we had gone through — all the advice and more — we needed each other, even if I still sometimes feel like I asked too much of him.

I’ve been reminding myself to breathe lately. It feels like my shoulder has been disconnected and I’m just walking around lopsided right now. It’ll probably feel that way for a long time, and it’ll definitely feel that way when birthdays come and go or memories pass by.

I wanted to tell you about that moment because I’m not who I was 10 years ago. I grew up, graduated with honors and as my commencement speaker, and moved across the country in pursuit of a dream. I attribute so much of that to Alan and no amount of words I write or say can ever really capture the depth of what our friendship meant. And whatever happens next in life, I know I’ll always try to live in a way that honors that.

And I hope I made a difference for him too. In between the life moments — the academic achievements and professional ones and, of course, the meeting of his real soulmate and watching their love story — there will always be a part of me that knows we did well and that our 18-year-old selves would be so fucking proud.

A couple years ago, we were Skyping and he was asking me for advice about a tough decision, and I was sick and trying to be helpful. I didn’t think I was making much sense, but he told me I should write a book someday for when he needed advice but didn’t want to bother me when I was busy running the world. I rolled my eyes, popped a cough drop, and he asked me what the wrapper said.

“What?” I asked.

“Halls wrappers are like fortune cookies!” he said (he would know that).

I looked. It does have sayings on it, by the way, for when you need a pep talk while you’re sick.

“‘You’ve survived tougher,’” I read.

He wrote that on my Facebook wall as a reminder and attributed it to Halls.

Ever since I was a kid, when I needed to process something: I would write. It started out in pink diaries and spiral notebooks, and then moved on to Xanga and Tumblr.

This blog, now, has been where I've processed the most as I've grown older: joy, pain, heartbreak, love.

Loss.

These words are not perfect. I've been writing, and re-writing, this. I've hovered on the "publish" button until falling asleep from pure exhaustion. If you're reading this now, it's because I need to take another step forward in processing what happened.

There's no guidebook for a moment like this, when someone who was so very much present suddenly becomes the past. Last week, I booked a train ticket. We made plans to see A Wrinkle in Time on opening weekend. I put his birthday present in my Amazon shopping cart so I wouldn't forget to order it when I got back from my Lunar New Year trip home.

"Must be fate," he wrote as we planned out the visit. (There was an hourglass emoji in there too.)

That was our last exchange. I keep looking at it, waiting for the follow up.

Finals week, freshman year. We went to the library just to take this photo.

We called each other "Other Half." At one point during an all-nighter essay-writing session over AIM, he deliriously wrote "O.T." instead of "O.H.," and then he called me "O.T." ever since. We were absolute opposites, but we found the moments that made us click so well. I was jealous of how quickly and easily he made friends. He would remind me to tell him if he was being too impulsive. Scroll back through our Facebook chats or the AIM conversations that were archived in my Gmail, and you'll find long rambling messages about everything and nothing all at once. If we fought, it was usually over something stupid, and we always made up by reminding each other that we'd have nobody else to watch Greek with if we weren't talking.

This was this year's VIB Rouge gift, and what a great gift it was. At first, I was skeptical because I've typically relied on more firm brushes for my foundation, but this one surprised me. It spreads the foundation evenly without leaving a streaky mess, and it also doesn't soak up too much of the product either. And it's nice and travel-sized!

I got a S'well water bottle in December as part of an event swag bag, and I love it. All last year, I struggled to find the right water bottle that wouldn't leak in my backpack or fall apart unexpectedly. So by the time I got this bottle, my first thought was, "How will this disappoint me?"

Well, so far – it hasn't. It really does keep liquids cold for a really long time (Na got one of the coffee tumblers recently and said it's kept her coffee warm for a longer period of time than other tumblers) and the lid is secure. Plus, it isn't bulky! The best of all worlds.

And they're gorgeous. The formula is creamy and the colors are gorgeous. I also love the packaging, even though I've heard some people criticize it because it's paper-based. But I think that's what makes it unique, and I love the idea of having each tube serve as a sort of photo postcard of sorts.

I've been obsessed with this coffee-smelling candle since sniffing it at Anthropologie, so it was such a delight to get it as a Christmas present from Amanda! It's a subtle scent when you light it, and it looks pretty on my desk too.

My new bathroom doesn't have a ton of storage space (really, it has none), so I've had to make it work in my room instead – which is fine because doing my makeup at my new desk/vanity set-up is much better than leaning over the sink to see myself in a mirror. The best addition to all of this: this utility cart from IKEA that holds all of the makeup I'm reaching for frequently, plus nail polish and lotions, all stored in handy little baskets on the cart. And I can even wheel this thing to the bathroom if I want to do my makeup in there.

I suffer from a chapped lip problem, and sometimes it's felt like there was no solution aside from slathering balm on every hour. But after sitting down to really do my research (and by that, I mean that I watched a lot of YouTube videos), I've found a few staples that have changed my lip care routine and have made wearing lipsticks more comfortable and less messy.

Along with drinking more water, these are the products that have saved my chapped lips this winter:

I had been using the Lush lip scrub, but lately it just hadn't been doing the trick. The sugar would go on and just crumble right off without taking away any of the dead skin. But what's great about the Tarte Lip Facial is that it's also a hydrating balm that leaves a cooling finish after the sugar is gone. I also love that it's in a crayon format.

I got this as a sample a few weeks ago and gave it a try after hearing good things about it from a few Beauty Gurus, and they weren't kidding: this stuff is the definition of recovery and replenishing. There are four colors – three which give you a slight tint, but I've gone with the natural since I put it on before bed – which are a great alternative to a gloss when your lips are feeling particularly dry. Since using this, I've noticed a massive improvement in my lips when I wake up: they look healthier and there's definitely less chapping.

This lip balm is so addicting – it smells amazing and it's left my lips feeling incredibly soft. The addition of coconut oil feels extra moisturizing, and after the nighttime ritual of the Tarte Lip Facial and Agave Lip Mask, this lip butter has been all I need in the morning to keep my lips hydrated all day.

This was on my 2016 favorites list, and I still stand by it (even if I'm still not crazy about using a potted lip balm). Even though I've been reaching for the Sol de Janerio Lip Butter lately, this is still a fantastic lip balm staple that's a year-round favorite.